Mirror
by FluffleNeCharka
Summary: Danny can't see Phantom in the mirror anymore. But there's still someone there... [Oneshot, drabble, dedicated to Balkoth.]


Author's Note: I am bored. It is two in the morning. Anyone who can understand this probably needs sleep. Dedicated to Balkoth, because of all my reviewers, this ghost-lover is the only one who looks at the symbolism and such of fics. (Which is awesome, by the way.)

I own nothing except for a nameless OC who only makes very brief appearances, has no name, and exists in a universe copyrighted to Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon.

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Danny really hates mirrors.

He didn't used to. Before, all he'd see in them was Phantom, who would sleepily remind him that if he didn't get a move on, Jazz would say he was hogging the bathroom. And on some days Phantom was still asleep, and all Danny would get was a faint image of his other self, curled up somewhere – God only knew _where_ – with a blanket that had tiny ghosts imprinted upon it.

There had not been any problem with seeing Phantom before.

Now he couldn't see Phantom at all. And that was alarming. Where was he? He was in Danny, so why couldn't Danny see him? It was disturbing. What was worse was that hollow feeling that he now felt when using his ghost powers. It was as if something was missing, somehow. He wasn't sure what happened. Neither were Tucker or Sam.

But he knew that new face in the mirror very well.

This was not Phantom. This was someone else entirely, and he was not the friend Phantom had been. He mocked and sneered, grinning a mad grin of the cat who swallowed the canary and got away scot free. He would appear in any reflective surface, no matter how small, and he always had that horrible smirk. He was a constant, negative force Danny couldn't shake.

Danny hated looking up and not seeing his reflection or Phantom.

It was infuriating. Where was Phantom? Danny needed him right now. And why, oh God, _why_ was this horrible creature here? The boy beyond the glass smiled cruelly, his pure black eyes never once leaving Danny, even when Danny wasn't looking at him. His white hair clung to his head like a helmet. That smile, that maddening smile, was almost covered by the high collared black cloak that he wore.

Almost. Not quite. And it drove Danny insane. It chilled him, made him feel ill, and he hated it. Several times he almost went to Jazz to say something on the matter, but each time, that face would appear faintly upon the doorknob and he could not.

He hates mirrors worst of all.

Doorknobs are bad; they are terribly eyecatching when one is trying to open a door. And the reflection floating beside him in windows was alarming, too. Even the puddles and lockers of the Earth were not safe from this creature, who grinned insanely at him every time Danny walked past. After a while the problem grew to include computer screens, TVs, even flames.

But mirrors are the worst.

Through mirrors, he can speak. Though the words are few and far between, when he does speak his grin vanishes. Danny sees a broken ghost then; someone who does not care about anything. Whatever had brought his joy is gone. In a hollow, low, and whispery voice, he tells Danny things. Things Danny cannot believe, yet they are said with such finality they _must_ be true.

Your father is going to kill you, you know. With a malfunctioning Fenton Thermos, too.

"Shut up."

I wish I could tell you it won't hurt. It will. You'll feel like you are on fire. Then everything will feel cold. You'll get released from the Thermos before you die. I guess that's something to be grateful for, huh…

"You're a liar!"

You get your own lair in the Ghost Zone. Nice place. Black with a white bed. Can you see it?

Danny always runs at this point. Or he will stop whatever he is doing and back away. No matter how he held back from replying, even to the other things the ghost said, he could not deny that last thought. In his mind's eye it was a clear image: A black room, with a floating white bed. A small white undead owl named Spooky would perch on the bed… He could see it like it was real.

It couldn't be real. That guy had to be lying.

Sam's going to die, too. Tucker and Valerie and Sam are all going down along with you. You tried to stop them. Honest, I did. But they wouldn't listen and kept trying to save me. You saw the Men in White coming. There was just no time to stop them before the gun went off…

"Be quiet! I really don't need this right now!" Danny hates trying to do his homework. The surface of the book Mr. Lancer assigned is mirrorlike enough that this is unavoidable.

You're right. But trust me, you'll need it later.

God, he hates mirrors!


End file.
